


Down Time

by minkmix



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Humor, Motel Rooms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-05
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2020-04-08 04:48:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19100047
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/minkmix/pseuds/minkmix
Summary: The power goes out and all Sam has left for entertainment is a full out more bored Dean.





	Down Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [simon le Duran Duran](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=simon+le+Duran+Duran).



Sam didn't really consider himself a man with a lot of vices.

He stared at the sputtering candle that was half drowning in its own wax. Saving the batteries in his flashlight, he had opted for the weaker and slightly useless light source.

Or even needs really. Growing up eating cold spaghetti-o’s out of the can and wearing a garbage bag if you got caught in the rain made you welcome anything more that was slightly above a rating of poor. California had even taught him that even average wasn't good enough for most people. In fact, average usually got nothing but complaints. But there were certain things that a man needed to get through the day. And there were even more things a guy needed to get through the night. Sam looked around at the darkened television, the useless lamp and the black out of the parking lot. The thunder dully boomed overhead, a flicker of lightening illuminating the thrashing trees just beyond.

Too dim to read a book by, but just bright enough to get to the bathroom with the toilet that would no longer flush without a working water pump. He glanced down at this watch. The clock said it had been hours but it felt longer. A lot longer. Like ‘suspended in never ending time’ longer.

Sam was never so happy maybe ever to hear his cell phone ring.

“Hello?” He tried not to sound as desperate for distraction as he felt.

_Hey. How goes the good fight?_

Sam pulled back the curtain a little bit to take another good look at the motel room just opposite him in the parking lot that Dean had broken into. Like all the windows around him, it was dark.

“Nothing here so far.” He sighed. “What about you?”

_Nada. That guy's car’s still parked right where it was four hours ago. You sure he's a witch? Doesn't smell like one. Can I go home now?_

“Fuck.”

_What’s the problem?_

“Nothing, it’s just that, I don’t know— Hey, what’s that sound?”

_What sound? Of course it’s the SOX game, why would I be watching anything else?_

Sam felt his grip on the phone tighten.

“Are you telling me you still have power?”

_What like electricity or like a personal sense of entitlement—_

“Electricity! You have electricity?”

_Uh, yeah?_

Sam groaned and slumped back in his chair.

_Why? What?_

“The power.” Sam drummed his fingers on the table and watched the candle glow orange on its wick before almost going out. It bravely reformed its meager flame. “It’s been out.”

_So…. Yer just sittin’ over there in the dark?_

“All night.”

_Play tetris. Or that mine thing._

“Computer isn’t charged.”

There was silence on the line. Sam frowned at the few inches of candlestick he had found with a damp pack of matches under the motel room’s utility sink. It was fluttering like a strobe light and starting to give him a headache. He was better off with nothing at all.

“This storm must have knocked out a power line, I thought the entire town was—Hey, what’s that?”

_That? Uh, just the radio. Ya know, one of those alarm clock radios._

“Oh.” Sam regathered his thoughts. “Well, I thought the entire town was in a black out, but it’s probably just this freakin’ street.”

_Huh._

“Look, nothing is happening over here, why don’t I just—what the hell is that?”

_Blender._

Sam blinked as his brother nearly shouted over the noise. 

“Your room has a blender?” 

_Yeah! Weird huh? I figured I’d make some margaritas, ya know, pass the time._

Sam looked at the small empty half fridge that was filled with green mold and little else. 

“Dean, I think I’m gonna call it a night here and head back—Dean?” 

_What?_

“I said— I SAID I THINK I’M GOING TO—what the hell is that!?” 

_I CAN’T HEAR YOU I’M IN THE JACUZZI AND THE JETS ARE REALLY LOUD._

Sam gritted his teeth. 

_SO YOU JUST HANG IN THERE I THINK WE’LL GET THIS THING CRACKED BY AT LEAST TOMORROW—_

“Dean.”

_—OR MAYBE TOMORROW NIGHT—_

“Dean!” 

_What!_

“What the hell are you doing?”

_... The truth?_

"Why not."

_Sitting next to the unworking air conditioner and shaking a glass of change._

Sam sighed shortly. "NO power. NO a/c." 

_...Wanna play twenty questions?_

Sam settled back in his chair and looked down again at his watch. 

“Is it a Japanese katana sword?” 

_Shit. I guess it’s your turn._

The candle hissed and started to winked out. 

_WAIT. A TANK--_

The phone died right along with a thud of thunder.

A thin stream of blue smoke uncoiled slowly over the phone as the storm rumbled across the sky. A strong heavy sheet of rain began falling down in torrents across the parking lot and splashing up against his window.

He tossed the phone on his unmade bed.

There was plenty of time. 


End file.
